Edited to remove something stupid and insensitive. What was I thinking?

The following post has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that my loving husband has quit buying me chocolate ice cream because he is doing his best to be supportive of my weight-loss endeavors. I don’t know why you would even think that. Anyway, he knows that chocolate ice cream is low on the glycemic index and therefore very helpful in keeping my hypoglycemia under control.

10 Reasons You Have a Headache

You’re dehydrated. Drink plenty of water Starbucks style frap. Add cocoa powder to make it easier to take in the quantity of fluids you so badly need.

You have low blood chocolate. The verdict is out on whether chocolate is a cause or a cure when it comes to headaches but I choose to believe that it helps mine, and we all know the power of suggestion.

Your kids are too loud. Maybe they’re bored. Maybe you should give them some work. Hey, where did they go?! Quick, get the ice cream and a spoon…

You are suffering from caffeine withdrawal. Chocolate has caffeine. It may take a lot, but you want to get rid of your headache, don’t you?

Too much caffeine. See? You should have had chocolate instead of coffee. Less caffeine.

It’s hormonal. That’s the price of being a woman, but there is an upside: everyone expects you to eat more chocolate.

You’re short on sleep. Duh. You’re a mom. Chocolate has just the right amount of sugar and caffeine to get you through a long day, plus it has proven anti-depressant properties.

Didn’t you know? October 28 is National Chocolate Day, and I haven’t a thing to eat. Too bad I already missed International Chocolate Day (9/13), plain old Chocolate Day (7/7), and two of the four National Chocolate Chip days (5/15 and 8/4). But I can still celebrate plenty of other holidays. National Chocolate-Covered Anything Day sounds promising.

Need help? Try this. I just did, and it worked like a charm! I suggest eating yours directly from the mug. I started that way and it was a moist, rich fudgy delight. When I took mine out of the mug, I found that the edges dried out very quickly.

Add dry ingredients to the mug; mix well with a fork. Add egg and mix thoroughly. Pour in milk, oil, and vanilla, and mix well. Add chips, if using.

Put mug in the microwave, and cook for three minutes at 1,000 watts. (note: my little low-wattage microwave cooked it perfectly at 3 minutes. you might want to try less time with yours.) Cake will rise over the top of the mug — do not be alarmed. When finished, carefully remove mug from microwave and allow to cool a little. Tip onto a small plate prior to serving, if desired. Yields one generous serving or two “more virtuous” servings.

After finding that, I did a simple google search and turned up some more. Some of these are old and might not work, but they were all worth a try as far as I’m concerned. They all gave me encouraging results like, “Thank you for your request. Your sample should arrive in 2-99 weeks.”

I just remembered a tidbit from my childhood. I told my kids this morning and they loved it, so I thought it might be a good idea to store it here in my longterm memory banks blog.

Back when I was 11yo, I went on a babysitting job with my best friend. She was 12 and an old pro, but I had never been allowed to babysit so I felt very grown up and privileged.

We babysat. This was where I learned a little toddler-diapering trick that has stood me in good stead over the years. This was also where I witnessed an adorable bit of toddler cuteness as the mom was giving us instructions before she left:

Mom: Here is Miranda’s plate with her dinner.

Miranda: Dinner!

Mom: She can watch a bit of TV after she eats.

Miranda: TV!

Mom: She can have 2 cookies for dessert.

Miranda: Cookies!

Mom: Her bedtime is at 8:00.

Miranda: Not yet!

Gina told me that the parents in this home allowed her to snack on whatever she wanted and they had given me permission as well. I imagine my jaw hit the floor when I heard that. In our house, I remember the menus being strictly planned. “Don’t get into that cheese! I need it for Thursday! Don’t each all of the peanut butter – it has to last til next Friday.” There was no free snacking in my childhood memories.

I peeked into the freezer and found – oh, joy! – a bag of chocolate chips! What treaure! What luxury! At my coaxing, Gina and I nibbled the entire bag.

It. Was. Good.

And then the parents returned, and we went back to Gina’s home.

But the story doesn’t quite end there, on such a happy note. Apparently the parents later discovered the missing bag of chocolate chips. Gina told me later that they changed the rules and began setting out preplanned snacks for Gina because they feared she was not making wise choices.

No, not me. If you must know, I gained more like 4 pounds over the last 4 days. I know, I know. I’m supposed to be losing weight, not gaining. But the last 10 days have been nothing short of a Food Fest, beginning with the 3 lb. box of See’s Chocolates that my dear, sweet in-laws gave me as a baby gift. All dark chocolate, baby. I guess labor & delivery has more benefits than just a sweet baby.

But I’m not the only one gaining weight. Maybe the chocolate is making my milk richer, because this little angel is now 8 lbs. even, up from 7.5 a week ago. And this was an early morning weigh in, after her traditional all-night fast. Since she’s gaining at the rate of an ounce per day, she might have weighed even more by this evening.

Credit where credit is due: my in-laws knew about See’s spectacular, wonderful delicious chocolate because my hubby offered it up as a suggestion when they wanted to know what they could get me. And my hubby knew about See’s scrumptious, delectable, unmatched-by-any-other chocolates because my grandparents have sent us a box every year for Christmas since I was little.

Try accidentally deleting your church’s entire website. Two weeks before the annual conference/talent show. If your husband is the very understanding type, he just might bring home an unprecedented amount of chocolate to soften the blow. Of course, I still have to finish rebuilding the site.

And I had been joking about giving birth onstage as my talent act. Maybe I’ll go up there with a laptop and show them my ability to commit mass destruction with a single unintentional keystroke. Now that takes talent, wouldn’t you agree?

At least my living room floor is finished. Hubby and I and several of the older girls worked until well past midnight, then finally went to bed with a couple of hours worth of work left. This morning, I slept late; don’t ask how late because I’m not telling. At late-o-clock in the morning, Deanna brought me my Bible and the laptop and suggested that I might like to stay in bed for a while longer. My guilty conscience took one look at the clock and jumped out of bed, dragging me along for the ride.

Outside my bedroom door, I found the remainder of the tile job nearly finished. The Boy was playing contentedly outside under the supervision of 6yo Becca and 8yo Natalie, while Deanna and Lydia worked quietly and diligently, painstakingly cutting the last row of tile to fit around the edges of the room. Hubby had taken the other 3 children to work with him.

I have to admit, I was a little nervous at first. I looked around wondering just how well they had been paying attention to the finer points of measuring and cutting tile last night at midnight, but I have to admit: the floor looks fabulous. I have no idea where the adult handiwork left off and that of the children began.

Now we’re considering where to put the bookcases when we reconstruct the room.

Oh, and speaking of reconstruction, I’ll have to work some more on the church site. Ugh. Bad Kim. Bad, bad, bad!

I’ve decided to do something presumptuous, though I’ll try to do it purely without presumption. I’m going to start referring to the new baby in the masculine gender. I’ve decided to do this for a number of reasons:

All the girls are constantly referring to the new baby as “he.”

Many of the immediate and extended family have dreamed repeatedly that the baby is a boy.

Several people have told me that I’m carrying the baby like a boy (what does that mean???).

It’s surprisingly difficult for me to imagine having a girl this time.

The one time before this that I really, deeply longed for a boy, I had The Boy. Now I really, deeply long for a brother for The Boy.

I already refer to the baby as “he” in my head and try to filter the pronouns before they come out of my mouth. I also did this with The Boy.

If the child is a girl, I think we’ll have no trouble switching pronouns when we meet her. Right now we’re having lots of trouble with pronouns. Why waste brain cells fighting before we know which side we’re on?

And so, with disclosures and disclaimers in place, with no external supporting evidence, and with tongue firmly placed in cheek, I will henceforth unapologetically refer to this child as “he,” unless and until I learn otherwise.

Oh, and while we’re talking about the baby, I might as well add that he loves Starbuck’s Coffee Almond Fudge ice cream. He didn’t wait 10 minutes for the blood sugar boost – he jumped for joy when he heard me ask for the ice cream, and kept it up the whole time I was eating. Then he got his blood sugar boost.